A/N Well I wanted to get this up earlier, but my best friend's mother died so I spent basically my entire weekend with her, and then the last episode of Downton Abbey made me too angry to focus on any other fandoms, so sorry about that. Anyway, here's the next chapter and I hope you enjoy it. Things should be getting more intense from this point on, so please review with your thoughts, comments, and predictions!
Bass lowered himself to the ground and crawled a few feet forward. When he reached the top of the hill, he slowly lifted his head and peered over the tall grass. In the valley below, several Georgian troops were setting up barricades in the streets of a small town. A few soldiers stood guard, but most of them were working on their defenses. They were completely unsuspecting. They were vulnerable.
As his eyes travelled up to the horizon, Bass smirked. There in the distance, but not too far away, was Atlanta. Finally they had arrived, and just in time too. Charlie should be getting close to having the baby now, only four weeks left according to his doctor who originally examined her. He was almost a father. At least he had enough time to capture the city and take Charlie back to Philadelphia. He'd be damned if any son of his was born in the Georgia Federation.
Carefully, he crept back down the hill and returned to his troops. They were loading their guns, checking the ammunition, the usual ways to get ready for a battle. Bass passed through them with his head held high, and the soldiers each saluted him when he walked their way. Eventually he came to the group of higher ranked officials, who were mounting their horses. Major Neville noticed his presence and walked over immediately.
"Sir, are you sure it's a good idea for you to enter the battle yourself?" Neville asked. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."
"I'm sure, Major, but I appreciate your concern." Bass answered. Tom nodded his head and silently walked over to his steed, but Bass stopped him. "Wait, Tom. You won't be joining me in this particular venture."
Tom's eyebrows shot up. "But, sir… why wouldn't you-"
"This isn't because of you, Tom, trust me. I just need you back at the camp with the rest of the troops."
Major Neville sighed and looked down. "This is because of Julia, isn't it? You don't trust me to attack Atlanta because you're afraid I'll let my emotions get in the way. Because Julia is in Atlanta."
Bass shook his head. "No, Tom, that's not it. I do trust you, in fact I trust you so much that I want you to take control of the campaign should anything… unfortunate happen to me." Tom's mouth dropped a bit in shock. Bass continued, "Just promise me that above anything else, you'll get Charlie back to Philly. If anything should go wrong… I want you to take care of the Monroe Republic until my son is old enough to be the General."
Neville stood straighter and nodded. "Yes, sir. I will do my best."
Bass narrowed his eyes. "And as for Charlie… she may put up some sort of fight. I doubt it since she would have nowhere to go, since I'll be killing everyone who could try to help her. Nevertheless, if she does create some problems for you or my son, don't hesitate to kill her."
The General placed his foot in the stirrup and pulled himself on to his horse. As he positioned himself, Major Neville shifted back and forth on his feet. When Bass noticed, he asked what was wrong. "Nothing, sir," Tom answered. "It's just… if you find Julia in Atlanta, you won't kill her will you?"
Bass shook his head and his horse began to walk forward. "I don't think you have to worry about that, Tom."
"And why's that?" he called. Bass turned his head around and continued to ride away.
"Because she's already dead!" he shouted, and continued on to battle.
Miles leaned against the wall and looked out over his soldiers. They were working diligently to set up barricades in case the enemy chose to attack, which he was sure they would sooner or later. He sighed. The fighting had been going on for weeks, and all of the men were starting to grow tired of it. So many of their friends were dropping dead left and right, and what did they have to show for it? It seemed like every day they were being forced closer and closer to Atlanta, and now they could see it only a couple miles away. As much as Miles hated to admit it, they were losing.
"How's it going?" Miles turned around at the familiar voice and saw Nora approaching him. But she wasn't walking. No, she was riding in her new wheelchair the Georgia Federation had so graciously supplied. She smiled when she maneuvered her chair expertly around the blocks of concrete on the ground so she was right next to him. "I think I'm finally getting the hang of this!"
Miles laughed. "Yeah, you're getting pretty good." He picked up one of the concrete blocks and moved it over so he could sit, and see her at eye level. "Pretty soon you'll be rolling circles around us."
"Are you kidding? I won't be going in circles, I'll be challenging you to a race- and winning!" They shared a laugh, and Miles looked over at her. To anyone else she would seem happy, like she had accepted her condition and was moving forward with grace, but Miles knew her. She was only putting up a brave face so that no one would see how devastated she was. He could see the sadness in her eyes.
For a moment they were both silent, each wrapped up in their own thoughts about the current situation. Then Nora took in a deep breath and tried to lighten up the mood. "I checked in with the guards back at the wall. They said your improvements on the defenses were coming along nicely."
Miles nodded. "Good. I'm afraid that wall may be the last thing that stands between the militia and Atlanta. It needs to be strong." They were referring to the huge, concrete barricade that had been set up in a perimeter around the city. It only had two openings, a heavily guarded metal door to the east and west, and it was built to be practically impenetrable.
"What makes you say that?" Nora asked. "It may not come to that. I'm sure you can defeat the militia before we have to barricade ourselves inside Atlanta."
Miles shook his head. "We're losing, Nora. Monroe's forces are closing in from all sides, and they outnumber us. Every time we take out a squad, two more get called in to action."
"But how is that possible? This is the Georgia Federation, where are the troops coming from?"
"They have some sort of camp, a few miles to the north," Miles answered. "Soldiers keep pouring down from the Republic and waiting there until they're needed. President Foster wants to send out an air strike once the amplifiers are ready but…"
"… but you're worried Rachel won't finish in time." Nora finished his sentence. Miles didn't answer, and he didn't have to. His silence was enough confirmation. Nora looked down at the ground, contemplating everything he'd said. She was just about to respond when the sound of gunfire hit their ears. Miles jumped up and looked around the corner, only to see large clouds of dust being kicked up by soldiers running for cover. "What's going on?"
"I don't know," Miles answered, "but I'm going to find out." He started to run towards the chaos, but he saw Jason coming his way and stopped him. "Hey, what's happening out there?"
Jason shook his head. "The militia came out of nowhere, caught us off guard. Sir, we're overrun."
Damn it! Miles should have known this would happen. He glanced back at Nora, who was still sitting in her wheelchair, then turned back to Jason and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Get Nora back to Atlanta, where it's safe!" he said, pointing in her direction. "We may have to retreat to the wall." Jason nodded and ran over to her. Miles saw her starting to protest, but he decided to let the boy handle it. He had bigger things to do.
Miles grabbed his rifle and loaded it as he ran towards the battle. Suddenly he rounded a corner, and several bullets exploded around him. He dropped to the ground, shooting as he went, and found some cover. To his left and right, Georgian soldiers were dying. As he looked out towards the militia, he saw hundreds of men. There was no way to win. They had to retreat.
"Fall back!" he shouted, firing a few round in to the enemy lines. "Fall back!" several of the soldiers near him heard the command, and relayed it across the lines. Miles stood up and started to retreat, still shooting until he rounded a corner. As he ran for the wall, he glanced back and saw several of the Georgian troops following him, followed closely by militia. He ducked in to a doorway and laid down cover fire, causing the militia to stop shooting and find protection.
It seemed like this went on for ages, soldiers running, shooting, falling. The number of survivors was dwindling by the minute, but the end was in sight. Miles saw the wall. It was so, so close. "Open the doors!" he shouted, and the metal moved just enough for a few men to slip through. The Georgian soldiers rushed inside, and Miles was the last to enter. Once he got through, the door slammed behind him, meaning they were safe for the moment.
Miles leaned against the wall, breathing heavily for a few moments. Behind him he could hear the militia trying to shoot through the barricade, but it wasn't going to work. They would have to find some other way to get through, and that would take time. Miles's next thoughts went to Nora and Jason. Did they arrive safely? But a quick glance through the remaining soldiers showed him that they were there, still alive and well.
Slowly, Miles stood up on his own and started walking up the stairs. When he reached the top of the wall, he looked out over the field before him that was starting to fill up the militia soldiers. As he saw them setting up camp, his heart sunk. There were simply too many. Without those amplifiers, it was impossible to win against these forced. Then he saw something that made him catch his breath. Riding on his horse, sitting tall and proud, was Sebastian Monroe. He looked up at the wall and locked eyes with Miles. It was too far away to know for certain, but Miles thought he saw rage flood the general's face. He turned around and walked back down the stairs, joining the downtrodden troops. As he looked up at the city before him, he sent a silent thought towards Rachel. "We need power," he whispered. "Bass is here."
